Solitary Road
by Ender2
Summary: A Werewolf: the Apocalypse fic. Anpw, a Silent Strider cub, prepares for her Right of Passage and the perils she will face while doing it. Chapter 3 has been reposted with new, longer content.
1. Beginnings

Official Disclaimer: I don't own any of these premises, names, etc., they belong to White Wolf. However, Anpw Stalks-the-Shadows and Sean Lurks-in-Darkness are my characters and shouldn't be used in any other fics without permission. I'm not making any money off of this and no copyright infringement was intended.  
  
Author's Note: This is the first Werewolf: the Apocalypse fic I've written, so constructive criticism is welcome. This fic is the first part of a very long story line, so although it is short, more will come. This will eventually coincide with my friend Scully's character's fic, so check out hers too. This is just my character looking back on her life right before her Rite of Passage. The next chapter will be a more detailed glimpse into this time period. Oh, reviews are greatly appreciated, and please check out my other fic called Lunar Hunt, about a werewolf on the hunt. Oh, I tried to find all of the spelling/grammar mistakes, but feel free to tell me about any I missed. Thanks.  
  
Solitary Road   
  
Part One "Beginnings"  
  
By Ender  
  
  
You know, sometimes I really miss my childhood. I remember those carefree days, or almost carefree days, when there was no Wyrm, death was as far away as could be, and the thought of an apocalypse was insane. It was just me, a loner, going through school in whatever town my dad's job had moved us to that year.   
  
I never had that many friends. I was always more comfortable by myself, never wanting to count on others too much. My two best friends, Jacob and Katie, were the only people that ever really accepted me and the only people I every really trusted. Problem was, when I was sixteen, I moved from Chicago up to Montana. I never heard from them again, since they moved too.  
  
I won't pretend and say that my childhood was flawless. Other than moving away from my friends, some people just always had a problem with me. This one cheerleader in my junior year, she just pushed me right over the edge. When she called me a freak I went berserk, did stuff that I never would have before. This prank I played on her ended up in her having to shave her head. Little did I know that that was on the lower end of the Rage that I would experience the following year.  
  
I can remember it so clearly that I can picture the entire event of my first Change when I was eighteen, out of some gift or curse. I had been coming home from school and had just got home when heard a bang in my kitchen. Some guy was standing in there and it took me a while to figure out he had hair all over and had really strange ears and eyes. He started coming at me muttering stuff about the 'Father Wyrm' but I had no idea what he was talking about then. When I saw the bodies of my parents lying there on the linoleum behind him was when I realized. Within seconds I was about to blow.   
  
The word 'murderer' kept racing through my mind as my vision distorted and turned red. I wanted to kill that man so bad I could taste it, my lip pulling up into a snarl. As he came nearer, I suddenly doubled over and clutching my stomach as a sharp pain went through me. What the Hell is going on, I thought to myself. A pressure seemed to be rising in me, threatening to overtake me.  
  
Now the man was nearer, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. He started to change, growing taller and sprouting fur and a tail. I didn't have time to worry about it, though, as the tendons in my back popped with sudden ferocity. I screamed as I nearly blacked out, the pain excruciating as my bones shifted and ground together, rearranging with hideous sounds. I can't remember what happened after that, the redness overtook my eyes and I came to in what must have been five minutes after the Change.  
  
As I looked down at the ground and my mind and thoughts returned I was confused. I didn't understand, didn't realize what had happened. As I looked around at the floor I saw my parents, lying there and I almost rushed over to them.   
  
Then I saw it.  
  
The head of the creature that had attacked me, resting on the floor next to my father, a grin still emblazoned on in its death mask. My gaze shot down to my hands. I nearly went into a frenzy again when I saw dark maroon blood dripping from black furred hands with three-inch claws. My breath quickened as understanding seeped through me. I had turned into...into...something, and had killed the strange man, decapitating him. The scream that wrenched itself from my throat was inhuman, turning into a frightened howl. This scared me even more and I ran from the house as fast as I could, turning back into my Homid form.  
  
Two days later, I was still in my human form, though it gave me no comfort. I was roaming the forest alone, trying to figure out what was happening, what kind of monster I had become, why. I had never felt more alone, cast out from everyone and everything. My entire body hurt, pain overwhelming me and preventing me from getting much sleep.  
  
Then one day a tall man approached me, silently running through the trees. I didn't notice him until he was almost upon me and I instinctively started to change back to the warrior form I had assumed days earlier. He also changed into a great black wolf and pinned me down, talking to me and telling me that he wasn't going to hurt me.   
  
It took me a while to believe him, but when I had calmed down enough he started to explain things to me. The whole thing was hard to digest. I mean come on. One minute you're a semi-normal kid who's only big worry was if you were going to get into a good college and getting good grades, then you change into a ten-foot tall monster and decapitate someone. Then some guy just turns up and tells you that you're a werewolf, who must help save the world from an evil force called the Wyrm, and a worldwide apocalypse is coming? It wasn't just me, this was majorly strange and hard to believe.  
  
Later Sean, that was his name, told me I took it better than most people, including himself when he Changed. I started to believe him little by little and let him take me to the campsite he had set up a short distance away. He knew I was getting better when I started asking questions, curious abut this 'Garou nation'. He changed back into his human form and I realized he was hardly older than me, twenty at the most. He introduced himself as Sean, though later he gave he the Garou name he had been given years before, Lurks-in-Darkness.  
  
Over the next few weeks we traveled the woods together and he told me more of the Garou cause, the tribes, and the auspices. I found out I was a Galliard, something I accepted immediately since I was always interested in the stories of heroes and the great civilizations. I knew it was me, just like how I knew that I was definitely a Strider when Sean described the tribe he belonged to. The Silent Striders were almost a perfect description of my previous life, loners searching for knowledge and stories that were from Egypt and were keepers of Egyptian and Garou lore.  
  
When Sean started to tell me basic stories of the ancient Egyptians, I amazed him with my knowledge, easily repeating the tales back to him in greater detail. Though I was never that good in school, the ancient Egyptians always seemed like my kind of people. I came to like Anubis, the half-human, half-jackal god, even more than I had before. My love of Egypt was suddenly explained, and with this common bond, Sean and I became fast friends. Soon he was not just my mentor, but my best friend in the world. I also got fighting lessons from Sean, who said that I would need to learn them if I wanted to survive more than a day on my own. He also taught me the Pakiv Swatura, a storytelling dance of the Silent Striders, and the secret code of colors and signs that my tribe used to communicate. I was strange being taught like a child by a guy that was barely two years my senior and my best friend to boot, but I got used to it.  
  
Then one day, Sean told me that he was going to take me to see more Garou at a nearby sept. He thought I was ready to meet more of our people and possibly to make my Rite of Passage. Sean said little about this Rite, but I knew that it was important and a pivotal point in my life. Soon he started to give me pointers on how to act with Garou elders and customs that I should know. He told me his nickname among the Garou, Lurker, but I opted to call him Sean until I got used to it.  
  
When we reached the sept I met Garou of all shapes and sizes. Most of the sept members were Children of Gaia, a peace-loving but sometimes ferocious tribe. Lurker, led me to a place in the caern where a few Garou were sitting together away from the rest of the caern's inhabitants. Some were in their Crinos from, and all that were looked like they were Striders. The sleek and thin stature along with their almost jackal-like face gave away the lineage that they had come from. Since many of the Striders that Lurker knew were usually off traveling the world, I only met a few of the members of the tribe I wanted to join.   
  
The eldest there, Avenger-of-Gaia, studied me as I stood before him, then asked Lurker why he had brought me to him. Lurker answered that I wanted to join the ranks of the Silent Striders after Changing two months before. Avenger-of-Gaia looked skeptical, which I expected, since two months was a very short time for a cub like me to be joining a tribe and undergoing my Rite.   
  
I knew it was very rare for any new Garou to do the Rite so early and accepted my rank as a mere cub. Of course, whenever Sean called me Cub, I threatened to kick his ass, but that was beside the point. I think that Avenger-of-Gaia was going to refuse, now that I look back on it, except for when he met my eyes. When I held his gaze, I think the steely determination and maturity that I gained from the murder of my parents came through. Though Sean was standing close to me for my own comfort, I didn't felt any apprehension at the look Avenger-of-Gaia was giving me. I remember seeing his eyes go wide as he looked into mine, and the short intake of air he pulled in.   
  
Realization was apparent in his gaze when his eyes met mine again. His voice was gravely when he finally spoke, and said the words I wasn't truly expecting to hear.  
  
"You shall undergo the Rite of Passage." 


	2. The Learning

Official Disclaimer: All of the premises and names mentioned in this fic are property of White Wolf. I'm not making any money from this and no copyright infringement was intended. Anpw and Lurker belong to me, so ask if you, for some strange reason, want to use them.  
  
Author's Note: Here's part two. This will be wrapped up in a third chapter detailing Anpw's Rite of Passage. Then a new fic that will be coinciding with the author Scully's fics will be posted. In this chapter, I just wanted to show some of the little known culture of the Silent Striders. I find this stuff pretty cool. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think.  
  
  
Solitary Road  
  
Part Two "The Learning"  
  
By Ender  
  
I tread softly through the dark wood, avoiding the numerous trees with graceful steps as I brought the canteens I had just filled back to my camp. It was my turn to get the water, as Sean had pointed out after throwing the water jugs in my direction, a little too close to my head for comfort. Sometimes I thought it was a certified wonder he wasn't a Ragabash with all the pranks and jokes he liked to tell. He could be serious though, deadly serious, and with his considerable knowledge of the Umbra and spirits that he taught to me, he was a Theurge, through and through.  
  
As I approached the small but scalding fire I had made, I realized that Sean was nowhere in sight. Suspicious, I slipped into a particularly dark shadow to hide myself, in case Lurker, in line with his name, decided to have a little fun and jump out at me. After a few minutes, however, not a leaf had moved within ten feet of me. I was pretty sure that Lurker wasn't around, nothing was out of the ordinary and he had taught me the Strider ways of silence, none of which were detected in the greenery around me.   
  
Slowly, preparing myself in advance for an ambush, I snuck out from behind the tree I had used as cover and walked into the clearing where our campsite was set up, the fire growing gradually dimmer because of the lack of wood. I looked around me, my gaze focusing on every aspect of the forest.   
  
My head snapped around as I heard a faint noise coming from my left, and I quickly approached the sound, wondering what the hell was going on. The sight that met me was strange, Sean standing up on a small boulder in Crinos form, moving and twisting his limbs around in a pattern. He seemed to be acting something out, his dark gray fur gleaming in the firelight. I watched him for a few minutes, then partially scuffed my boot in the dry dirt to let him know I was there. Sean's eyes shot open and he stared at me for a few seconds before shifting back to his regular human form and jumping down to join me.  
  
"Jesus, you're getting good at being silent, Lauren."  
  
"It's Anpw, remember," I replied, grinning at the praise of my developing abilities.   
  
  
"Sorry, I keep forgetting," Sean told me as he led us back to the fire.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'm still getting used to it myself." I had just chosen to change my name two days earlier, after learning of the word for the Egyptian god Anubis in the ancient Egyptian tongue. I dropped the canteens I was carrying to the ground and glanced up at him as we stopped. "What were you doing back there, man?"  
  
He shrugged and sat down and I followed suit, knowing that he was about to explain something about the Garou.   
  
"I was thinking that I should tell you more about our tribe and its customs, and I wanted to see if I could still do that one. It's called the Pakiv Swatura and it's used only by the Striders to tell tales to our people." He shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable about something. "It's supposed to be done by Galliards, usually females, but I learned it from a Strider a crossed paths with last year in Canada. All of us can understand it, but I really can't do it that well."  
  
"What, are you kidding?" I asked him. "That was pretty good. I probably couldn't do it that well and I am a Galliard." I had always liked to dance, but I was never really good at it, in any form.  
  
"You'll probably surprise yourself. Though, knowing how you dance you'll kill yourself trying." I tried to hit him, but he dodged and continued to laugh. I joined him, but stopped when he paused, then changed the subject. Sean obviously had something important to say. "There's another thing, though."  
  
"What?" I asked, now fully intrigued about the entire culture of the Silent Striders. There was so much to learn, in so little time, if I wanted to survive.  
  
"I need to teach you about some general Strider things. We have a code, you know, to communicate with each other on the road, or at moots. None of the other tribes know about it. We could be telling each other millions of things, and even the high and mighty Shadow Lords wouldn't have a clue." He grinned at this, his dislike of the Shadow Lords obvious.  
  
"Whaddya mean? That we give each other secret handshakes and make hand signals?" I asked incredulous.  
  
"Kind of. There are certain colors that mean things only to us. If you walk by a Strider at a moot wearing an obvious red scarf or shirt or something, it means danger is around. Green things mean safety and blue generally means peace. Other colors stand for other things, but those are the three main ones." Sean reached over and retrieved his backpack, then opened it and took out some clothing that were all different colors. "You're probably going to need to get some of these."  
  
"Yeah," I muttered, looking at a bright blue headband. I picked it up and looked at it.  
"You can have that, if you want. I've got a spare," Sean told me. I thanked him and put it in my own backpack, a large black bag containing my possessions and rations. Then I turned back to my friend, remembering what he had said.  
  
"But that only works at moots, right? What about when you need to warn someone and you can't stick around? You said we had a code when we're on the road."  
  
"You're right," he replied, picking up a stick. "We use trail markings and signs on the road. Colors mean the same things if you can write the glyphs in a dye, but there are general signs to know. Those will take a while to learn." He drew a few in the dirt at out feet and gave me the meanings of them. I knew I wouldn't be able to remember all of them, and so did Lurker, so he threw away the stick and stood up, wanting to teach me the markings another day.  
  
"Back to the Pakiv Swatura, huh? Just like the other stuff, outsiders can't know this. No one, and I mean no one, can learn this outside of our tribe. You can show it to them, but never tell others what it means." Sean looked me in the eyes.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about me. I won't tell a soul. I promise." He nodded at my answer. "Now get on with it, you freak." His solemn expression turned into a wicked grin and he led me to a flat spot near the fire to practice.   
  
We spent most of the night going over the subtleties of the dance and what each movement meant. Each small flick of the hand or movement of the fingers me taught me meant something different, and Sean only knew a small portion of the dance's vocabulary. The next day we packed up and moved on, though everywhere we traveled I practiced my newfound Strider knowledge. After I had mastered the moves of the Pakiv Swatura Sean knew, I couldn't wait to meet a Strider that knew of the entire language of the intricate dance.  
  
Likewise, I picked up the symbols quickly on the road as we saw examples in our travels on paths, rocks, walls, and basically everywhere. My tribe really got around. I wasn't surprised to learn that the Silent Striders' tribe symbol was taken from the general Garou sign for travel or journey. I started to get used to this new nomadic life.  
  
A month later, Sean told me that I had learned enough to go through my Rite of Passage. He told me my skills were very good and that I was ready, though I didn't know myself because he had never elaborated on what the Rite was. I was a little apprehensive to go through something I didn't know too much about, but I was confident, or at least a little confident, that I was ready. I just hoped that what I knew was going to be enough to do the unknown.  
  
To be continued... 


	3. Journey

Official Disclaimer: All references to Werewolf: the Apocalypse themes in this fic belong to White Wolf. I'm making absolutely no profit from this fic, and no copyright infringement was intended.   
  
Author's Note: Thanks so much to Thor for your awesome review. Yours is the first one I've ever gotten that offered so much help with my writing. Sorry the first two parts seemed slow, but they were meant to set up this chapter where the entire plot is actually located. Yes, there is a plot to this one and some good (or somewhat decent) fight scenes as Anpw tries to survive her Rite of Passage (I think this qualifies as plot, but tell me if it doesn't, I'm not quite sure). Glad you liked the Strider stuff, more of that to come later, with a little in this fic. Oh, Anpw, as I pronounce it, is an-puh (an like in "and" with the uh being short at the end), though I'm not quite sure what the real way to say it is. However, despite the pronunciation, I thought it was better to use the real Egyptian name for the jackal god than to use Anubis, which is the Greek way of saying it. Anyway, don't forget to review and tell me how this part measures up, claw up or down.  
  
Author's Note #2: More thanks to Tremere and Tigerclaw. I tried to eliminate all spelling errors (if you catch any more, please tell me) and flesh out the description more, as well as making it a bit longer. I finally found out what a moon bridge it actually like, so that part is much more descriptive. Yes, I always try to listen to my reviewers because they do contribute and catch things that I wouldn't. And Tremere, I bow to the holder of the 2nd claw. And thanks for the claw up. Anyway, the combined stories might take a while to write, but they'll be up someday.  
  
  
Solitary Path  
  
Part 3- "Journey"  
  
By Ender  
  
  
I stood in front of Avenger-of-Gaia, trying not to fidget as his strong gaze bored into me. An uncomfortable pause had overtaken our little isolated corner of the moot, and I couldn't help but feel that I wouldn't like what was waiting for me at the end of that silence. I didn't like this at all. I longed to push at the dirt at my feet with my leather boot, the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach on overdrive. Suddenly the elder spoke again, nearly causing me to jump at the booming sound of his voice.  
  
"Your quest will be this, cub. Tomorrow, after the conclusion of this moot, a moon bridge will be opened and you will cross it alone. It has not been used in decades and none can tell you where it leads. After you arrive at the unknown destination, you will find your way back to this caern and tell us of your journey. If you are a Silent Strider and a Galliard, and only if you are truly these things, will you survive. And only then will you be accepted as one of our own. Do you accept this Rite of Passage?"  
  
Surprised as I was, I remembered Lurker's instruction and met Avenger's gaze, then dropped my eyes, showing his dominance and my acceptance. This Rite was not what I had expected. I'd never heard of being left on your own in a strange place with no real battle to fight to prove yourself.  
  
"Then it is decided. Let it be known that she called Anpw has accepted the challenge."  
  
Howls erupted around me as the members of my tribe acknowledged the challenge. Ignoring them as I joined the circle and sat down on a rough tree stump nearby, I was overwhelmed. Thoughts whipped through my mind as I processed what he had just told me. I was going, by myself, to an unknown place with God only knows what creatures of the Wyrm there. Though I thought of myself as a decent fighter, I sure as Hell was no Ahroun, and taking on hoards of unknown creatures might give me just a little bit of trouble.  
  
Sure I was afraid then, a coward even, but by the end of the ordeal I wasn't one anymore. I didn't know what was to come, though, as I stared blankly at the orange firelight flickering gently in front of my face, gradually warming it. Sean came over and patted me on the back, grinning widely at the evening's events. Shoving all apprehensions aside, I smiled back and talked for a while with him, then followed the lead of the other Striders and silently watched the proceedings of the moot.  
  
Not one Silent Strider took part in the events that followed, though the storytelling portion of the moot intrigued me, causing me to lean forward to better hear the tales. A skilled Child of Gaia Galliard wove an absorbing tale of an encounter with a hive of Black Spiral Dancers, and other feats of local heroes were sung. The tale of the fall of the White Howlers was new to me, and it shook me as I realized what the Wyrm could do. Only scorn and disgust could be heard in the storyteller's voice, a pessimistic tone apparent in her words as a sour expression took over her face. This tale of the evil of the Black Spiral Dancers gave a new perspective on the Rite ahead me and what I had to prepare for.   
  
As she reached the climax of the tale, and described the twisted and evil Dancers emerging from the first hive, everyone around her gasped, unable to hold in their emotion. Even elders who had most definitely heard the tale before were outraged, even more than the cubs surrounding them. I myself couldn't imagine the horrors and how deformed the servants of the Wyrm were from her description. If I had know then what I know now about the Black Spiral Dancers, I would've been paralyzed in fright, just by the mere mention of the abominations.   
  
Later that night, Lurker came over and wished me luck, as he had to move on and hit the road after being in one place for far to long. I understood that Striders, even if they are close friends, usually never travel together, and took no offense at his parting. I thanked him for his invaluable help and told him that I would see him later as a Cliath, then went off to my own campsite and got some sleep. It took me an hour of restless tossing and turning, an admirable feat in my Lupus form, and countless minutes of staring at bright stars before slumber overtook me.  
  
The next morning I opened my eyes to the rising sun at dawn and shook off my weariness, trying to get myself psyched up about the journey. Slowly gathering my things together, I cleaned up my campsite and mentally went over a checklist of things I needed to survive in an unknown place. I had heard of canteen fetishes that would always produce clear water to drink, and wished I had one. I knew I didn't need it, though, and could get by without it, my Strider traveling skills better than those of the other none-roaming tribes.   
  
I met the elders at the site of the moon bridge, traveling to the side of the caern. A member of the sept opened it, a swirling-blue, oval shaped hole appearing in midair. Taking a quick glance at the site, my heart rate quickened and I was strangely reminded of portals in the old sci-fi movies I had watched in my previous life. Knowing that the time was at hand, I checked to see that I had my traveling supplies, then hefted my black backpack onto my shoulders and faced my fate. With a look at Avenger-of-Gaia, and the small acknowledging nod he gave me back with the dip of his head, I stepped through the hole, onto the bridge and started to walk on the glossy shaft of light.   
  
Soon I was alone and strange things were all around me, a thick mist drifting around my feet. Unnerving sounds echoed, seemingly coming from nowhere and I silently hoped that nothing serious lurked in these bridges. I knew that spirits liked to latch onto Striders in particular, especially in the Umbra, and I fiercely prayed that the sometimes-malevolent spirits would ignore me. They would only be an annoyance, making the Strider life much worse than it had to be.  
  
I had heard Lurker's testimonies about the bridges, but this being my first time on one I still was a little creeped out about being on it by myself. I just kept a steady pace, pretending it was another stroll through a forest and kept silent, keeping my footsteps as soft as I could. It wasn't too hard, considering I couldn't even see my feet below me because of the grayish mist which sometimes drifted up and threatened to swallow me. It frightened me on several occasions, the wisps hovering around my torso. The journey to the other side seemed to take hours and hours, but I made it across without any major problems. Following the iridescent sloping path downwards, I jumped through the exit and landed hard on my feet, my boots digging into the dirt.  
  
I had stepped out into what looked like a forest preserve, with tall trees surrounding the area and obstructing my vision, birds chirping occasionally behind me. Looking around, I realized I was standing in a caern that had been abandoned, desolate structures that had been leveled standing eerily to my left. Crumbled stone and rotting wooden planks were the only evidence that something had been there at all.  
  
I was immediately on guard, knowing that only minions of the Wyrm could do this damage. My rage mounted as I surveyed the destruction. Even though this wasn't my caern, attack on any Garou holy place was a grave offense. Shifting into Crinos to be ready for attack, I used my jet-black fur as camouflage as I melted into the shadows around me, stepping backwards and ceasing any small movements. Slowly, with minimal motion, I crept around the site, my still anger rising as I took in the destruction and partial skeletons dotting the ruins. After circling the damage, nothing was out of the ordinary, barring the old ruins and remains, but I checked again. Whatever had happened, it happened a long time ago, but you could never be too sure.  
  
When I had convinced myself that nothing was going to happen and no minions of the Wyrm were near, I picked up the backpack I had set down, shifted back to Homid, and made way for civilization. I didn't have to look that far; an hour of walking down an abandoned road led me to a reasonably sized town that seemed to be a smaller suburb of another city in the distance. Strolling down the main street at a typical Strider pace, going relatively fast but not running, I watched the people walking past me on the sidewalk. No one paid much attention to me, though I did get some strange looks for the muddy boots and pants I wore with a tank top and long tan jacket, my comfortable traveling clothes. I was used to it, teenagers got those looks all the time.   
  
Now nearing the edge of town, I went into a gas station with a huge red billboard advertising outrageous gas prices and bluntly asked where I was. The strange-looking, middle-aged guy at the counter gave me yet another funny look and told me I was right outside of Seattle matter of factly, looking at me like I was nuts. I thanked him and left, though I knew his wide, torrid eyes were staring at me as I trekked back to the road. He would forget about me soon, or so I thought.  
  
By the time I made it back to the forest and set up a camp, dark was falling, and I quickly ate some rations and turned in, making sure that I was in a relatively safe and protected place. A rock outcropping protected me from the elements and the view of any predator that stumbled across my path. Even as I slept, my senses were alert for any strange noises, my early warning system. It wasn't alerted that night and the next morning I woke up and started walking east, refusing to ask for rides out of my determination to complete my Rite of Passage on my own.   
  
This routine continued for days, and after a while I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't have anything to tell the Strider elders when I returned. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. I realized I was starting to get bored and I chastised myself, knowing that boredom is dangerous and leaves you open for attack. My attitude shaped up pretty damn quick, and I was alert every second as I pictured banes and enemies lurking in the shadows. Still, I enjoyed some of the places I visited, interested to learn of the local people and observe the slowly changing accents as I continued towards the caern across the Midwest.   
  
One day, less than a week after my journey had started, the simple routine changed. Drastically. I had been walking through a nice wooded area on a clear day, enjoying myself, when I heard the bushes many yards back unnaturally rustle. My strong sense of hearing picked up the sound again a few seconds later, and I could hear the creature trying to follow me inconspicuously. Not wanting to alert it that I knew it was there, I made for civilization, hoping to bring it out in the open while remaining in Homid form and continuing my stroll in a diagonal path.   
  
Before I got to a town I lost scent of it, my skills not up to par, having never been used for this purpose. My hearing was good, but the thing had disappeared from its spot. My blood ran cold as I realized that it probably had wanted me to hear it stalking me. This obviously was a very experienced opponent. I knew it wasn't another friendly Garou, they would've introduced themselves in general protocol, and the stiff hair on the back of my neck backing up my thoughts that it was an enemy. This had the vicious feel of the Wyrm.  
  
As I was debating what to do and stupidly wasting time as I walked, a black shape sprung from the greenery with an ear-piercing screech and slammed into me. I barely had enough time to assume my Crinos form before the creature's claws ripped into my pelt, drawing blood that unnaturally colored the trees as a wide spray shot out from the wound. His teeth sliced into me, and I could feel where his canine tooth broke off and stuck into my skin where it had punctured me. In horror, I realized he was trying to rip off a piece of my flesh to eat it, just like in the legends.   
  
I roared in pain, barely controlling my rage as I summoned a burst of strength and threw my opponent across my back and into a tall tree. He hit with a sickening thud and fell stunned for a moment, rolling over and bracing himself on his thick arms. In that split second, I assessed what it was, and my blood turned to ice as I took in the sight.   
  
The Black Spiral Dancer was malformed, his eyes wide with a wild madness and bulges distorting his inane grin. Oil oozed through his gray fur and I could feel the sticky liquid burning on my hands where I had touched him. Now I knew the disgust that the Garou felt when they talked about the Fallen Ones. This...thing...was hideous.   
  
The rakes his claws had made across my flesh burned and throbbed as an intense pain I had never felt before spread throughout my body. Crimson streaks flashed across my vision as I stared at the Dancer, who had picked himself up in the sparse seconds I had been recovering. With a maniacal laugh, his legs twitched in anticipation and he launched himself at me again. This time I was ready.  
  
Sidestepping his attack with a grace known to my tribe, I turned as he went by and latched onto his back. Biting into his exposed neck, I nearly gagged at the foul oily taste of his fur and the awful rotting flesh smell that filled the air. My gleaming fangs found purchase, though, and I ripped away some of his back with a quick wrench of my head as the muscles in my neck strained with effort. He swung around clumsily with a large paw, and I managed to inflict even more wounds on his arms as he tried to hit me with his enormous fist. I smashed him headfirst into a tree trunk with all of my bottled strength and backed away, a plan forming in my mind.  
  
Again I called on my powers of stealth and made myself disappear in the small, but deep, black shadow of a nearby rock overhang. Crouching down, I prepared to spring and gathered power into my legs, my muscles slightly twitching in anticipation. He turned with another high-pitched screech and then froze when he could see no one around him. He looked around the clearing cautiously in jerky movements, trying to find me in the forest around him.  
  
Still observing his surroundings, he turned and looked right at me. Oh shit, I thought to myself, this is it. End of the road. I prepared myself for an attack, but it never came. His gaze slowly moved away and he began to walk around, sniffing the air forcefully. I knew that once he was close enough, he would catch my scent. I had to attack when he was at my left or I was dead. Though I had won a few blows, he was bigger and stronger than me, and would get me in the end. Galliards were passionate and strong, but like I said, I sure as Hell wasn't an Ahroun.  
  
C'mon, you bastard, get closer. Closer. I whispered fiercely in my mind. The Dancer staggered near me, his smell becoming overpowering again as he closed in. I slowed my breathing, trying not to be heard and at the same time repel the stench to prevent myself from gagging. Then he stopped and turned his head away from me, distracted. His unguarded posture was a beautiful sight for me as I watched his actions.  
  
Now. I let loose a fearsome howl as I leapt out of my hiding place. He was startled and didn't even manage to get an arm up as I smashed into his body feet first, gouging out his middle with my enormous talons. His entrails spilled across the ground in a steaming pile of bloody goo and he dropped to his knees, trying to force his organs back in a futile attempt at saving himself. His intestines just slipped loosely out of his grip and he desperately tried to grasp them, his movements slowing down over a few seconds, eyes widening. Slowly, with one final shriek, the Dancer froze and fell face first on the ground as a sour scent filled the air and black blood pooled around him. He shifted back down to his Homid form, now recognizable as the cashier at the gas station. Or at least almost recognizable, his torso and middle completely obliterated.   
  
Ignorant of the gory sight I stood over and wrapped up in my rage, I howled again over his body, a fearsome, low-pitched bay that echoed around me and sung of my triumph. It was my first true kill, and I was elated in the feelings of power that ran through me, channeled by Rage. I was a hunter, and I had taken down my prey.  
  
Only then did I notice that a voice had joined mine and another Garou was in the clearing as well, howling along with me at my victory. His silver fur gleamed as he finished and lowered his head, looking at me, poised yet peaceful. I assessed what kind of threat he posed, but he stood there calmly until I let down my guard, muscles finally loosening. His scent was not of the Wyrm, and his demeanor seemed to be that of an ally. Walking over to me, he changed into Homid and spoke, looking at my handiwork.   
  
"I was going to offer some help, but it seems that you didn't need it." He looked to be around twenty-five years old, with shaggy blond hair and an easygoing face. I replied, changing to Homid also after pulling out the Dancer's tooth that was still lodged in my arm and waiting for my wounds to heal.  
  
"Nope, I guess I didn't. It was part of my Rite of Passage, anyway, so you probably couldn't have helped me. But thanks." I placed the tooth, still stained with its owner's blood, into my pocket and glanced up at him. He looked confused, his eyebrows crinkling together.  
  
"That was your Rite? Where is your mentor, that watches your actions during the time of passage?"  
  
"Don't have one, man. My tribe belongs to the school of 'leave you somewhere alone and find your way back, no matter what happens'." The man was clearly surprised, his eyes opened wide as he processed the information.   
  
"What tribe would that be?" I grinned to myself, then looked up at him, tucking a loose hair behind my ear.  
  
"The Silent Striders. Enough about me, though. What are you doin' here in the middle of nowhere?"   
  
He followed my lead as I picked up my gear and slung it across my back. We set a decent traveling pace and retrieved his things, then set off towards the road. On the way he explained that he was a Stargazer named Ethan Bordeaux and had just finished his Rite of Passage himself after five years of intense study in Tibet. His mentor, who gave him the name Blooming Lotus, had sent him to be part of a pack being formed at the Sept of the Seven Suns.  
  
I was surprised and interested to find this out, for that was the caern I had to make it back to myself. I hadn't heard about the pack being formed, but Ethan explained that the Garou there had proposed a pack to be formed of five different tribes that would work to break some tribal misconceptions and work in peace. The Shadow Lords were involved, so I knew that they were just looking out for their alliances and hidden agendas. Of course, that was probably the main reason for all of the tribes' participation.   
  
Turning my mind to more pressing matters, I told Ethan that I would join him in the journey to the caern, which was still a week away on foot. I didn't think the elders would mind if I had a traveling companion as long as he didn't help me out too much. Many Striders traveled with another Garou, so I didn't think I was breaking any specific Garou Rite of Passage laws. Ethan accepted my company and we exchanged general information we had heard on the road. I didn't see the reason why the Garou didn't trust the Stargazers reflected in Ethan, his wisdom making sense to me, but I knew that many still wouldn't accept him. Despite this, we were soon friends, not sharing our most intimate secrets, but still holding some conversations when I wanted to talk, breaking the Strider stereotype.  
  
We made our way across the Midwest, pausing only at night to get some sleep. In my sparse free time, I carved a hole in the Dancer tooth I kept from my first kill and strung it on a leather thong that I tied around my neck. It was an interesting contrast to the ankh necklace hanging next to it, but both were reminders of my people, Garou and Strider.  
  
One night Lotus and I stumbled on a traveling Strider that was camped on the muddy abandoned road we were following. To my immense luck, she was a Galliard that was experienced in the Pakiv Swatura and was willing to teach me more than the basics. I needed the instruction since only skilled dancers of the Pakiv Swatura were allowed to dance it in moots. For a day, she taught me of the more complex forms, used to tell tales of adventures and heroes. Ethan used the time to meditate on a large rock with yoga-like poses as we leapt gracefully around in circles, presenting the tale of Rain Hunter, a famous Wendigo.  
  
Then came the new concepts, dance forms for humorous tales that were wild and required full concentration and strength, not to mention a boatload of energy. She taught me unique throws, which were used on other dancers and the occasional and rare non-Strider that was sometimes asked to participate in the dance-tale. Many times I fell flat on my back, trying to toss her lithe form up high while spinning around myself. Jesus, that was hard.  
  
By the time the lesson was over, I was dizzy and exhausted, dropping down onto the hard ground as my weak legs gave out. The Pakiv Swatura tested even the famous Strider endurance. I was a fast learner, and remembered all of the moves she had taught me in intricate detail, a skill that would serve me well in my later years. I went over the patterns in my head as I tried to fall asleep. Like many days before, I was unsuccessful and rose up to take a walk to clear my head. Looking to my left I saw Clear Sky, the gray-furred Strider, turn over, restless.   
  
Noticing she was still up also, I asked her if she knew any great epics that I could relate to my audiences. She sat up and told me the tale of our tribe's dark secret and how we had been banished millennia ago from our homeland, cursed to wander by the evil vampire known as Set. I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't understand why my moronic tribe hadn't asked the other tribes for help in defeating the vampires and reclaiming our home. She had no answer to why they hadn't, but said no one from the Garou nation other than members of our tribe knew what had happened and couldn't be told. She seemed to agree with them about keeping the secret and I kept my silence, not wanting to debate it with her. I was sad to see her go the next day, the road calling to her as it called to Ethan and I to move on.  
  
Before we parted ways, she took a short time to explain to me a Strider rite called Feralia that was performed on February 13 and instructed me not to miss it. It involved sacred stones known only to Striders and a desperate night of running to communicate with our ancestors, who had been torn from us when we were banished from Egypt. I had heard of it before, but the reminder and advice on how to find the stones was good for me, considering the day was not that far away. At least I had a few months to prepare.  
  
We continued our trek and two days later reached the outer bawn of the caern. Knotting a bright blue bandanna around my head, we howled our greetings and purpose to the Warder, who let us pass after a long inspection. The moot was going to start when the sun came down, we had made it just in time. I said goodbye to Ethan as I headed towards the isolated corner where the Striders hung around and reached up to rub the Dancer tooth, trying to calm my nerves.  
  
As I approached, I could see only Avenger-of-Gaia was still here, new Striders joining him as others had clearly moved on. Avenger was one of the few Striders that called a caern home and he was rooted there for life, a very rare exception to the rule. I walked up in front of him and dropped my head to show deference. Then I spoke in a formal manner while projecting my voice, looking up at him as he examined me.  
  
"I have returned to the Sept of the Seven Suns after completing the quest given to me by the elder Avenger-of-Gaia. I bring tales of my journey and news of the caern I was sent to." Avenger-of-Gaia looked pleased, but I wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks or not.  
  
"Then you shall finish your challenge and tell us of your travels." He gestured widely to the assembled Striders, wanting me to tell my tales to only them, not to the entire caern at the moot. It was to be a private affair, though I didn't know whether to be apprehensive or relieved.   
  
I stood before the elders and warriors and told of my journey, starting with the abandoned caern near Seattle that was ravished and ruined forever, then moved on to the Dancer's attack. Moving on to a brief encounter with an inexperienced werewolf hunter that I had done away with, I completed my tale with news I had learned from the Strider Ethan and I had met on the road. I knew the account wasn't as engaging as a tale of great heroes vanquishing a huge servant of the Wyrm, but I accompanied my story with slight twists and turns taken from the Pakiv Swatura. I couldn't practice the full kind yet because of my lack of experience, but the small motions and my suspenseful tone kept my listeners enthralled. I was definitely in my element.   
  
When I finished, Avenger-of-Gaia rose, his tall frame once again distorted by the firelight. Speaking to all of the assembled Garou and not just me, he projected his voice for all to hear, at a volume where we could listen, but outsiders couldn't.  
  
"A tale masterfully told. You left us a cub, inexperienced in the ways of the world. You return to us a warrior and a bard that rivals many gathered here. You have completed your challenge with grace, stealth, and skill, as is the Silent Strider way. You have proven yourself, Anpw who Stalks the Shadows, and are ready to become one of us. Step forward and be recognized as one of our own, a Cliath among us." I moved to stand in front of him, my back to the assembled viewers.  
  
"Let it be howled to all the Garou nation that this pup is now a Garou."  
  
The small crowd of Striders erupted into a howl that carried its joyful note over the caern. It was an experience that I would never forget, being accepted by my people for the first time. I joined them in a howl that spoke of my joy as others approached and slapped me on the back for a job well done.   
  
Avenger walked over with an earthenware bowl in his hand. He dipped his giant Crinos claw into the dark mud it contained and drew the glyph of my tribe on my exposed arm, the flowing symbol standing out on my arm. I knew that its loose translation was journey, perfectly mirroring the philosophy of my tribe, as well as my own. As Avenger-of-Gaia murmured the end of the rite to Mother Gaia, I knew I was one of them for life.  
  
After the scene had calmed down again, the Striders again sat down around the fire, now in good spirits. Ready for more tales, they started up a Strider custom that was new to me. Known as the Darane Swatura, the tale started with one Garou and went around the fire, another part being added on by each Strider. Each part tried to outdo the one before its' humor and by the time it had gone around once, we were all laughing so hard we couldn't talk. Only then did it end, and I was down in the ground laughing for a good ten minutes afterwards as we remembered the absurd story. Just the thought of a noble Shadow Lord wallowing in an ill-placed dung pit, snarling with rage set me off giggling in an instant. Picturing it just made me laugh harder, a strange story, but hilarious.  
  
I remember thinking it was a shame that the other tribes thought of us as serious and strange, almost aloof. I had never seen a more lively bunch of Garou, save for the Fianna, who were known for their wildness. We Silent Striders were open with each other, just feigning silence with other tribes. Perhaps it was a mistake, the vampires' curse proof of that, but it was an all right system. I felt that we were fine, but we had to confide in someone, someday. But it wasn't going to happen, and I wasn't going to be the one to break the age-old silence. Or so I thought.  
  
As I retired to rest before the moot, I was in one of the best moods I had ever felt. I shifted to Lupus and circled my 'bed', then laid down and rested my head on my paws. Thinking that I was going to start my new life by leaving for new places the next day, I slept well. My backpack was packed, ready to go after a night of watching the moot's proceedings. I had no idea of what was to come, and what would seal my fate at the gathering that night. A surprise lay in store for me, one that I would never forget.  
  
  
To be continued with the help of my friend Scully in either a new chapter in this story or a new fic to be posted. Keep an eye out for when Kaiya and Anpw meet, things are going to get a little interesting. 


End file.
